Merry Christmas
by Aradia17
Summary: A lonely Tobias finds his Christmas brightened by a visit from Rachel. Short, oneshot, RT ficlet.


**Merry Christmas**

My eyes scanned the meadow intently for the the barest hint of life, but everything was covered by a thin layer of freshly fallen snow. Each blade of tall, dead grass was coated in a sparkling sheen of white, and the ground was frozen hard. Every tree in the forest, including the one in which I sat, was coated in the same ivory crystal. The actual snowfall seemed to have let up for now, but the gray blanket above promised that the reprieve would be brief.

The human in me found the sight breathtakingly beautiful. The hawk in me saw only the starvation it promised.

I'd always liked winter. There was just something about how perfect it could be, before anyone touched the newly fallen snow, as it lay unblemished atop all of humanity. There was something miraculous in how the flakes could fall without making a sound, how if you didn't look, you'd never know they were coming down at all. It had always affected me.

And it still did, except that now it was a double-edged sword. I had the best view of winter's perfection that I could have ever hoped for: acres of untouched, snow-coated forest land. But at the same time, the snow kept all of my prey away. Mice, voles, rabbits – all had escaped the cold, going underground where I couldn't hope to get at them. This was my first winter as a hawk, and I was suddenly facing the very real possibility that after all I'd been through, after all the deadly battles, all the mortal injuries, and all the constant fear, I could wind up starving to death because I was a predator with no prey.

That was ridiculous, of course. I wasn't just any predator. I could change into a human at any time, walk into town, and eat a hamburger. I had five good friends who wouldn't hesitate to bring food right to me, who had offered time and time again and would be only too glad to help.

Except I was stubborn, more so than I'd ever given myself credit for in my human life. Once accepting that I was once and for all a hawk, I had promised myself that I would _be_ a hawk, or at least, as much as an Animorph can truly be any one form. I wouldn't turn human at the slightest show of trouble and take the easy way out. If I was a hawk, I was a hawk one hundred percent, and I would live the life accordingly.

Usually, this was a verdict I had little trouble abiding by, but today, holding on to my vow was proving difficult. As I sat there in a tree, scanning a meadow hopelessly for prey that had long since disappeared, I could picture all of my friends in their warm homes, eating ham and potatoes, drinking egg nog, singing holiday carols and opening presents underneath brightly lit Christmas trees. Even in the midst of the war we were fighting, they were finding some small measure of peace on this, Christmas morning.

I would have no peace, though. I would have a cold, icy meadow, and a growling belly. I couldn't go to them, not today. I couldn't impose that way – or, at least, that's what I told myself. Deep down, I think it was just my pride that held me back. I supposed I could saunter into a grocery store somewhere and buy myself some food, take in a movie, treat myself to some human luxuries, but I knew I wouldn't do that, either. See, at least as long as I was a hawk, being alone on Christmas was acceptable—expected, even. But as soon as I turned human, that loneliness became painful and pathetic.

_Stop it, Tobias,_ I told myself harshly. _Self-pity is pointless. It gets nothing done. Deal with the issues at hand, and then you'll have less to pity yourself about._

But somehow that was a hard order to follow. I flashed back on past Christmases, spent with random relatives who didn't really want me there, getting at most one or two lame gifts. Once my aunt had given me a sock she'd knitted at her knitting class. Yes, _one_ sock. One malformed sock. I didn't even get the pair. After the always-pathetic exchanging of gifts, I'd usually just retreat to my room while my relatives got drunk, turning on my stereo and reading or drawing, staring out the window at the falling snow.

So really, was this particular holiday so much worse? Yes, I was alone, but I always had been. At least now no one was around to add insult to injury.

Finally, I stopped my attempts at stillness, knowing there was nothing there to frighten off. Shaking the frost out of my wings, I stretched my muscles and prepared to take flight. There was nothing to be had from sitting here all day. Maybe I could find some prey in a different part of the forest. If not, I'd have to get creative. Assuming none of those options panned out, I supposed I could do a little Yeerk surveillance. I wondered if slugs celebrated holidays. I could just picture the Yeerk pool decked out in lights, Hork-Bajir decorating trees, Visser Three leading the troops in a rousing chorus of "Jingle Bells."

I was just about to release my talons from the tree limb when I heard a rustling below me. Suddenly hopeful, thinking maybe I'd found prey after all, I turned my rapt gaze down, immediately seeing the source of the disturbance. It wasn't a mouse or anything equally edible, but what I did see certainly didn't leave me disappointed.

Rachel had just entered the clearing, her school bag slung over her shoulder, donning a stylish pink turtleneck and a matching ski cap. She looked gorgeous, and a part of me thought it a crime for two such great sources of beauty to be side by side: Rachel and the snow.

Not equipped with my magnificent vision, she stood squinting, scanning the trees, obviously looking for me. Instead of flying down to her, I hesitated for a moment, wanting to take in her presence, her beauty, and the wonderful feeling that was coming over me at the thought of her being here.

Finally, I said, Rachel.

She caught sight of me as I flew down to her, and her face was lit up by a grin. I knew that her being there was all the Christmas present I needed.

I landed on the ground in front of her, and prepared to demorph. The only time I really like being human is when I'm with her, because then we can touch, and then I can feel that delightful lightning run through my skin every time we do.

"Thought I might find you here," she joked, reaching behind her to ruffle through her bag.

By the time I'd demorphed, I was a shivering kid standing barefoot in bike shorts and a tight tee shirt in the middle of a snowy field. Morphing unfortunately didn't account for weather gear. But Rachel, clever as always, had anticipated this problem and was already handing me a warmer outfit, shoes and all.

"Thanks," I said gratefully, hurrying to put on the clothes she'd given me. Pretty soon I was donned in a preppy-looking Tommy Hilfiger sweater and jeans, my feet covered by thick socks and blue-striped tennis shoes. I looked like a modeling ad, perfectly coordinated and giving the impression of wealth. I hardly cared that it was about as far from "my" look as I could get; it was warm, and as far as the hawk in me was concerned, I could have been wearing a neon yellow tent so long as I was protected from the cold.

"So, what are you doing here?" I asked, smiling at her. "Not that I'm not glad to see you, but don't you have some family thing to get to?"

Rachel shrugged nonchalantly. "Hey, I come and go as I please." I raised an eyebrow. "Okay, okay. Mom had to run out because some work thing came up, and she took Sarah and Jordan because while she's taking care of it, her office is putting on a sort of party for the families of people who have to be in the office. I opted out, because really, the whole ordeal of sitting on Santa's lap wore out a while ago. We're doing the meal and presents this evening instead."

"So, you're here."

"Couldn't think of anywhere else I'd rather be."

"Oh, well, I don't know. Fat, jolly, bearded guys can be a big lure," I said, even though I felt a blush creeping up into my face at her words. Hearing her say that meant so much more than she could know.

"Now that you mention it, maybe I should reconsider. . . ." she said playfully. Her smile changed subtly from teasing to genuine as she began to go through her bag again. "I got something for you. Hang on."

"Oh, no, you didn't have to," I protested.

She glanced at me, her eyes dancing. "Believe me, I know. When was the last time I did something I had to?" She laughed as she pulled out a box wrapped in sparkling red paper. "I did it because I wanted to, as per the Rachel code."

"You have a code now?" I asked, trying to cover up the intense emotion I was feeling.

"What, you didn't know? It goes something like this: do what I want to; do it first; do anything that makes Marco crazy. That last part really cropped the list down quite a bit." She dropped the box into my hand. "So open it."

Slowly, I began to unwrap the paper. My heart was racing, my body shaking, overcome with these strange things I couldn't ever remember feeling. Her simple presence had turned this Christmas from another dismal day to the best holiday I'd ever had, and my fingers stumbled as I tried to undo the wrapping on the gift she'd handed me. She hadn't needed to get me anything, had she only know what her mere presence was worth.

Beneath the paper was a simple, long white box, not much bigger than my hand, and I lifted the top off of it. There, laying on some rough cotton stuffing, was a necklace. On a black leather tie hung a pair of sterling silver birds – no, not just birds, a hawk and an eagle, entwined together, their necks circling one another's, their wings touching. Below the birds, attached by thin, near-invisible wire, were three large, gray and white feathers. That overwhelming emotion I'd been feeling moments before welled up to the point of being unbearable as I looked up at her.

Rachel seemed to have become uncharacteristically embarrassed. "I know it's not something you'll get much use out of. I mean, you can't exactly wear it most of the time; the Yeerks would probably be tipped off, seeing a bird wearing a necklace. But I didn't know what else to get you."

"It's perfect," I said, almost whispering as I tied it around my neck.

She smiled. "My dad knows a guy who does jewelry, so I asked him if he could tweak their standard 'pair of doves' design. Then I had Cassie rip a few feathers out of me when I was in eagle morph, and I just tied them on. I highly doubt they'll stay attached for very long, but . . ." Looking down, she said softly, "This way, you always have a part of me with you."

And in that instant, I named those strange emotions, those foreign thoughts. As I looked at her, her hair shining in the dull gray light, the gentle curve of her lips as she smiled, and as I fingered the cool metal of the pair of birds that represented the two of us, I knew I loved her. I knew she loved me.

For the first time in my human life, I didn't let my inhibitions or my fears stop me. I loved this girl, loved her more than any person I'd ever known, and for all I knew, everything could end tomorrow. So I'd use today. I'd make it mine. As she looked up at me, inquisitive, wondering why I'd been silent for so long, I stepped forward, put my hand behind her head, and kissed her.

Her lips on mine were soft and sweet, her breath warm, and I felt her arms go around me in turn. We stood locked that way for several moments. I was full of the most pure ecstasy I'd ever known, my skin tingling with that old familiar lightning multiplied by a thousand. Those moments lasted forever. If I were to die tomorrow, I knew that this would be the last moment I would relive, the pleasant memory that would cushion my fall into the afterlife.

Finally, we parted. We didn't say a word—we didn't need to. My thoughts were as clear to her as they were to me in that moment, and words would only have cheapened it.

"I love it," I said, indicating the necklace. I couldn't bring myself to substitute the word "it" with the word "you," but I didn't need to. Rachel has as sharp a mind as anyone I know. She understood my second meaning. Feeling a bit self-conscious, I added, "I don't have anything for you, though."

She gave me one of her patented "duh" looks, but her smile took the edge off of it. Leaning in, she kissed me again, briefly this time, but just as earnestly, just as passionately. "Of course you do," she murmured, brushing her nose against mine.

Grabbing the now-empty box out of my hand, she tucked it back into her bag. She grinned at me with all of her old, familiar cockiness. "We've got the whole day before I'm expected home, so I say we make the most of it." She took my hand in hers, entwining our fingers, and sending another jolt of lovely lightning through me. "I thought we could get something to eat, and then check out the ice rink they set up downtown. I haven't been skating in forever, and I figure, what with all the fighting we do, my balance and reflexes must have improved, right?"

"Because all the gymnastics you did before made sure you were a complete klutz," I teased.

She ignored me. "And then we can go back to my house and watch some movies or something until the rest of my family gets back."

"A warm fire, egg nog, movies, and you," I summed up.

"Basically the perfect Christmas," she teased haughtily.

"The best I've ever had," I replied, smiling sincerely, without a hint of mirth.

Rachel stared at me intently for several long moments, and I knew she was reading in my eyes the truth of my statement. For once, I didn't block my emotions, allowing her to read me like a book, wanting her to take in every word, wanting her to know me as well as I knew myself. Slowly, she reached up and brushed my hair out of my eyes, and as she did so, I could see her opening her own soul to me. I'd never known how much it could mean to just stare into someone's eyes.

After what felt like a lifetime, Rachel wrapped her arm around my waist and pulled me to her. I put my own arm around her shoulders, feeling her body pressed into mine as we began to head toward town.

"Merry Christmas, Tobias," she murmured as we moved through the trees.

"Merry Christmas, Rachel."


End file.
